


The Remainings

by lalunalas



Category: Original Work
Genre: Apocalypse, Artificial Intelligence, Geniuses, Laboratories, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Post-Apocalypse, Science, Science Experiments, Survival, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunalas/pseuds/lalunalas
Summary: Humanity was once at the top of the food chain, but now, global civilization had collapsed, humanity is at risk of extinction. Earth is filled with polluted air from the explosion of several nuclear bombs that were used to stop the outbreak of the virus. However, it did more harm than good.





	The Remainings

SAN’S PERSPECTIVE

  


/Beep./

“Attention: Here are the daily reports for December 22nd, 2666,” The AI reports monotonously, “It is currently 3:33 PM, air temperature is 43 degrees, chances of rain: 0.1%, humidity: 10%, visibility 1 km, and PM2.5 pollution level is at 700 µg/m3 (micrograms per cubic meter).” 

I perked up at the news, “Seven hundred? That’s the lowest this month. Wonderful, huh?” I pulled off mask from my face, freeing my irritated skin. 

“Correct, Dr.San.”

“That was a rhetorical question. Nothing is ever ‘wonderful’.”

“Noted.” 

I grunted, “Do you though? I’ve tried to update you 9 times now. You never get my humor.” 

“Please define humor, ha ha ha ha.” 

“That’s the creepiest laugh I’ve ever heard in all of my twenty-four years of living.” 

A blue whirring circle appeared on my glasses. The AI processed my statement before speaking monotonously once again, “I’ll take that as a compliment, sir, ha ha ha ha.” Ignoring its utter disrespect to its creator, I trekked along the stone ruins whilst constantly keeping my eyes and ears open, looking for any possible threats. Being vigilant is the most important and useful trait you could have right now. 

“What’s my schedule for today?” I asked, jumping over the remains of whatever poor animal that tried to drink from the river.   
  
“You have 10 uncompleted projects, would you like me to list it out?”   
  
I made a thoughtful hum, “Nah. Let’s start a new project, name it ‘the cure 2.0’” 

“.....Sir, you start a new project every few weeks and you rarely complete them.” 

“Oh wow, I never even noticed. Thanks, Sherlock.” 

“Your welcome, Dr.Watson.” 

The familiar sight of the old cabin entered my view. Traps are laid as far as 10 metres away from the cabin. The position of each one has already been engraved in my memory. My body moved agilely, not making even a single mistake. It was similar to dancing, like memorizing a choreography. But the consequences of getting it wrong were more explosive. Either you get it right or you die as pieces of meat scattered on the floor. Was it dangerous living this way? Surely. But at least in death I could provide nutrition for someone else. The most useful thing I will ever do apart from finding the cure that will probably save every living being on this hellhole.

Entering the cabin, I opened the secret tunnel in the stone walls and descended the stairs into my home. I threw my duffle bag onto the ground and hastily closed the entrance to the uneel back up again. 

“Sir, it’s dinner time. Would you like me to prepare your meal?”  
  
I snorted, staring at my barren pantry. “Can you even call canned beans with some frozen bread a meal?”   
  
“Your meal will be ready in 5 minutes”   
  
“Okay, mom,” I rolled my eyes and tried to finish up whatever I was doing.

Hours pass by as I began experimenting on different chemicals, mixing my results from my previous attempts in hopes that it created something…_ less _ disastrous and more useful. 

“Hey D.A. 1.0,” 

“Yes sir?” 

“Forecast for tomorrow?” I asked D.A. even though, I know what to expect, the typical low as fuck chances of rain and high as fuck pollution index. 

“Chances of rain: 50%.”  


“What the fuc-” I spat out my super watered down tea. “How did it jump from 0.1% to 50%. Are you broken again?” 

“No, sir. The system scan says that I am fully functional”

“Well, shit.” I breathed out, my heart thumps a little faster. “_ Shit. _ That’s...actually great. _ Fuck _...When was the last time I saw rain?”

“Two years ago, sir.” D.A .responds curtly. It may just be my imagination, but I thought that even D.A .sounded a little nostalgic there. “_ Damn _ . Has it been that long? I’ll finally get to drink water that _ doesn’t _ taste like it’s been shat in by 100 different species,” I chuckled, feeling a lot more relaxed than I’d felt in years.

“You mean your filtered urine?” 

How could D.A. even say such a crude thing in such an unfazed tone? Maybe I need to update it again.“Shut the fuck up.”

I quickly walked to my garden. Excitement thrums through me with the wonderful news. “GUYS YOU’RE GETTING HYDRATED SOON.” I started dancing after done shouting at my plants knowing that they are not capable of understanding a single word I just said.

I walked to my dinner table and quickly finished my meal. After a long day of trying to survive, I headed straight to my bed. When I thought about it clearly, wasn’t it kind of pathetic that I got extremely excited by the thought of rain? Is this what my life has come to? Working all day, expecting the bare minimum from the world, talking to a stupid A.I., driving myself towards a despairing goal...when would it end? Does it ever end? 

“Is there even a point in trying?”  


“The cure, sir. Your goal is and always has been to find the cure. Otherwise, there’s no meaning to your life.”

“....Can you be more supportive and less robotic?”

“That’s like asking you to be less pessimistic and less human.” 

I groaned, turning over to my side and mumbling into my pillow, “Why did I even create you.”

“Because you’re a lonely sack of shit-Ahem, to be your personal assistant and to take care of you, siR ha ha ha” 

“You ungrateful little-” I was about to throw my glasses away, so that I could sleep in peace without D.A. annoying me every 5 minutes. At this rate, I’ll die from irritation before the pollution gets to me. 

“Alert: Someone is approaching our defenses.”

I immediately sprang out of bed. “How close?” 

“4 metres away away from the cabin door. Surprisingly, they’re moving at a very fast pace. I suspect they would get here in 11 minutes.”

I grabbed a gun from the supply closet, swiftly ascended the stairs, and ran over to the front door. I loaded the gun and got into a firing position. 

“Sir, one of the bombs had been activated.” 

Not even a second later, D.A. reports: “Sir, they’re here.”

“I thought you said 11 minutes?!” A loud, frustrated yell left me and if D.A. had a body, I knew it would be fliching at this moment. 

“I miscalculated.” D.A. admitted, showing some signs of remorse. 

Still, no matter what, this was inexcusable. Its mistake could get me killed.“You sad excuse of an AI-”

“Again, you created me, sir.” D.A. retorted back quickly; it’s always quick when it wants to insult me in some way. If only it was this diligent at doing its job. 

“...Okay. Get to work.” 

A blue whirring circle appeared in my glasses once again as D.A. gave me another alert, “I’m preparing the machine guns, sir.” 

A string of commands flashed on the screen of my glasses. The cabin seemed to come alive and beeps and whirrs fill up the once-silent space. “Locking on target...now. Firing in 10 seconds.” 

“10 9 8 7-- Sir, one of the machine guns is broken. Would you like to continue?” DA spoke almost nonchalantly, as if the fact that one of our major defense mechanisms being broken was a totally normal situation.

“Is there anything you can do right D.A.?” I asked exasperatedly, knowing full well that it would just retort with another snarky remark. “There’s plenty of things, sir. I can tell the time, the air temperature, your unfinished projects, the fore-” 

“RHETORICAL QUESTION.” 

DA dropped its remark in favor of the reporting about the intruder, which was what it should had been doing since the start, “The person seems to be yelling something, sir. Should I turn up the audio?”

“They can speak? Turn it on.” I commanded with the hope that the intruder is human and not some mutant sub-human monster that’s always out to get me. 

  


A ‘ding’ resounded as the speakers were turned on. “FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY TRAPS. HOW PARANOID CAN A PERSON BE????? I BET HE’S A DUMB FUCK THAT DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HOW BOMBS WORK.” A clear but loud voice was projected, anger clear in its tone. 

“.........”

“Oh. He’s just like you sir!” Somehow D.A. sounded more alive than usual. Was that really what it should be focusing on right now? 

“Do you want to get scrapped? I can disassemble you right here, right now.” 

“But you will get lonely ̊‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚”

“When the fuck did you learn to use emoticons.” 

“I downloaded them from your old phone, sir. There’s plenty to choose from. (≧∇≦)/”

“I thought my sense of humor was the worst, I guess not anymore.”

Once again, D.A. chose to ignore my words. Most likely because it didn’t have anything else to retort back. “Sir, do you still want to have the person killed?” It asked, briskly switching back to its ‘professional’ mode. 

“I-”

“A FUCKING MACHINE GUN? WHICH COCKSUCKER PLACED THIS HERE. AREN’T THEY CONCERNED ABOUT ACCIDENTALLY KILLING SOMEONE?” The person’s shouts grew louder by the minute as they noticed the guns pointing at them, ready to fire, “DO THEY EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH POLLUTION CAN BE CREATED BY SHOOTING A MACHINE GUN FUCKING DICKHEAD.” Their rambling continued with an energy that seemed like it would not end any time soon. 

“.......” 

“Such a colorful person (b^_^)b” 

“Are you my AI, or his AI?” 

“I am a free AI, sir (^3^)” D.A. replied cheerfully, whirring once, then shifted back to a serious tone, “Sir, the person is attempting to pass the electrical barrier.”

  


“.....Do they have any weapons on them? Any infections?”

“No, sir.”

“Threat level?”

“A level 1 at most, sir.”

Well, shit. What was I supposed to do? They were an actual human being. One that posed little to no threat, had no weapon to defend themself and was also not infected. Was there even a reason for me to turn him away? What would I be if I didn’t let them in? Wouldn’t I be just like those presumptuous pricks in the city? Am I being too cautious? 

“......Let them in.” I said while looking at the cracked monitor. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work that I am co-writing with my friend. Hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> twitter: @lalunalas, @aqua_rius_k


End file.
